


Wildest Dreams

by hhwgv



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhwgv/pseuds/hhwgv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the past few months, Clary has been dreaming about the same thing - a girl with raven hair and equally dark eyes who seems more alive than anyone Clary has ever met. When she sees the girl at Pandemonium, she doesn't expect to witness a murder. Before Clary can even process what she saw, she receives a panicked phone call from her mother telling her not to come home. Clary can tell that her life is about to change. What she isn't aware of is just how much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~~This is the only pairing that matters in TMI~~ I wanted to write a longer Clary/Isabelle fic, so I started it: a soulmate AU. A lot of the major plot points are the same, but there are _definitely_ some changes in store.

The autumn sun filtered through the sparse leaves that were still clinging to the large oak tree whose trunk Clary was currently leaning against. She looked up from the sketchbook she was drawing in, just in time to see Simon striding towards her. He flopped down beside her onto the still-damp grass in the shade of the tree. “What are you drawing?” he asked as he took his lunch from his backpack.

 

“Nothing,” she replied, flipping her sketchbook closed and stuffing it back into her green canvas backpack. Simon raised his eyebrows in scepticism and Clary sighed, “It’s just an idea I had for a painting.”

 

“Mhm,” Simon had a sly smile on his face that Clary knew meant that he didn’t believe her. “So,” he changed the subject, “are we still on for Pandemonium tonight?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Clary replied, pulling a cookie out of her lunchbox.

 

“Awesome,” Simon grinned. “I have band practice first, but I’ll come by your place around 7:30 and we’ll walk from there.”

 

“Sounds good,” Clary agreed absentmindedly. Her mind was still on the girl she was sketching. She’d dreamed about the same girl every night for the past few months – a girl with hair as black and inky as the night sky and similarly dark eyes. Clary hadn’t told Simon about the girl, she didn’t know how or what to say. She was sure that Simon would say it was nothing, that she was just remembering someone she’d seen before, but Clary knew that she hadn’t seen this girl before.

 

The day seemed to drag by, Fridays always felt longer than any other day, and Clary couldn’t wait to get home. She’d recently bought some new oil paints that she was eager to test out. The moment she walked through the door she went straight for her easel. Time spent at school and time spent at home obviously went by at very different speeds because the next time Clary checked the time it was almost 7 and she had paint-stained hands and hadn’t even begun to get ready to go out with Simon.

 

Her red curls were a mess but she knew that if she washed her hair she wouldn’t have time to dry it properly so she skipped it when she showered, instead braiding it and attempting to twist it into a crown like one of the hairstyles she’d seen on Pinterest. It didn’t look exactly like the photo but, as she wasn’t a professional hair stylist, that was to be expected. Clary wasn’t really one to dress up, but she did her best, pulling on a pair of dark, form-fitting jeans that she liked and a sparkly black top. She’d barely gotten dressed when she heard her mom yelling that Simon was there.

 

“Hey,” Simon greeted her when she walked out of her room. “You ready to go? You look great.”

 

“Yup,” Clary answered, taking one final look in the mirror before she grabbed her coat from the hook by the door. She had a feeling that something special was going to happen tonight.

 

Clary knew that her mom didn’t like it when she and Simon went to Pandemonium, but she never forbid it outright. It was one of Clary’s favourite places to go to unwind after a long and stressful week. It wasn’t a terribly long walk, but the night was exceptionally cold so, by the time they got through the doors, Clary was relieved to be out of the frigid air.

 

As usual, the place was packed. There were people of all sorts there – people with every colour of hair imaginable, piercings, tattoos, everything. Clary and Simon were in the middle of the dance floor when Clary saw her – the girl from her dreams.

 

Her long, dark hair was open and down to her waist. She was wearing a white dress that was short enough to show off her toned things but long enough that it wasn’t inappropriate. Clary could see that the exposed areas of the girl’s skin was covered in black marks that looked like they could be tattoos, but for some reason Clary found them oddly familiar. Clary almost didn’t notice that the girl had a long, silver bracelet wound around her wrist like a snake and Clary couldn’t help but stare at her. She was dancing with a boy that had blue hair – that was all Clary could see. Somehow, without meaning to, Clary found herself abandoning Simon in the middle of the dance floor. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own as they carried her towards the mystery girl.

 

The blue-haired boy was leading her somewhere and Clary followed, unaware of the two people who were _also_ following her mystery girl. When they suddenly came into view, Clary knew that something was up. They had marks covering their arms and neck – just like the girl. The blue-haired boy brought them to a dark room that was too big to be a janitor’s closet, but was. Watching the way her dream girl and the other two were acting, Clary felt like she might not be welcome at this particular moment.

 

Clary did her best to stifle any noises she made as she watched the fight that ensued. She bit back a scream as one of the others cut off the head of the blue-haired boy. There was a putrid smell and she heard the one that had delivered the killing blow mutter something that sounded like, “demons,” under his breath before pushing back his golden hair and stomping out of the room.

 

It was not what she had anticipated. Any ideas Clary had about talking to the girl were gone as she waited quietly in the dark corner, holding her breath when they passed. Clary waited until she was sure the coast was clear before leaving the closet and desperately searching for Simon. She could feel hot tears streaming down her face – it had been a lot to take in. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t scream or do something, she’d just stayed hidden.

 

“Are you okay?” Simon asked when she found him, his concern evident on his face. Without saying anything, she shook her head. “Let’s go,” Simon insisted, taking her arm gently and leading her to collect their coats.

 

Clary could feel herself slowly calming down when the cold air hit her face. Her breathing was ragged, but at least now she felt like she _could_ breath. Simon waited patiently – he knew she’d explain when she could. She didn’t know where to begin, but she was about to when her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. “Mom?” she answered.

 

“Clary, I don’t have that much time,” Jocelyn sounded panicked and there were loud noises in the background.

 

“Mom, what’s happening?” Clary asked, worry creeping into her skin.

 

“Listen to me – Clary. I don’t have time to explain everything right now, but I need you to listen very carefully,” Jocelyn was out of breath and she sounded like she was hiding from someone. “Don’t come home. I – I sent you an address. Go there. It’s the only way to keep you safe. They’ll tell you what you need to know. Please. Clary, I love –” and the line went dead.

 

Clary could barely hear Simon trying to talk to her. Her mind was swimming and all Clary could think about was her mom.  The murder she had just witnessed seemed to be wiped from her mind as she frantically tried to call her mom back. Every time, it went straight to voicemail and Clary could feel tears dripping down her face once again. She checked her text to find the address Jocelyn had sent her. “Something happened to my mom,” Clary told Simon. “But she told me not to go home. She said I should go here.” She showed him the address her mom had sent her.

 

“Do you think it’s the police?” Simon asked as he took the phone.

 

Clary shrugged, her voice seemed to have stopped working for the time being.

 

She didn’t really know how she got to the address. She was vaguely aware of Simon leading her, but her mind was swimming from all of the events of that night. Clary hoped that her mom would be there – safe.

 

“Your mom wanted you to go here?” Simon said sceptically. “Why? There’s nothing but an abandoned church.”

 

But Clary didn’t see an abandoned church. The church she saw was huge and grand. It was beautiful and, while it looked old and Victorian, it didn’t look abandoned at all. Clary felt something drawing her towards the door. She ignored Simon’s protests and walked towards the door, staring at it for a moment before knocking timidly.

 

Simon was still standing on the sidewalk when the door opened and a woman with dark hair and a wide, angular face gasped, “Jocelyn?” Clary stared at the woman. She had the same marks as the girl from Clary’s dreams and the other two that were at the club.

 

Clary shook her head. “I’m Clary, Jocelyn is my mother,” she replied in a voice that was surprisingly calm. “She told me – she told me to come here so that I could be safe. She sounded like she was in danger and not to go home and I…” Clary dissolved into tears and she felt the woman’s hand gently rest on her shoulder.

 

“Come in,” the woman said softly, stepping out of the doorway and ushering Clary inside.

 

The inside of the church was just as magnificent as the out. It was beautiful and intricate and Clary couldn’t help noticing, even through teary eyes.

 

“My name is Maryse,” the woman said as she led Clary through the building. “I knew your mother when we were young,” she opened the door to a room with a high ceiling and overstuffed chairs sitting near a crackling fire. “Sit,” she insisted, motioning to the chairs.

 

Clary did as she was instructed and Maryse sat down in the chair opposite her. “What did your mother tell you?”

 

“She… she said that she didn’t have much time,” Clary answered. “That this was the only place to keep me safe and that you’d tell me what I needed to know,” she studied Maryse’s face – there was something familiar about it.

 

“Did Jocelyn ever tell you what you are?” Maryse asked.

 

Clary felt her brows draw together. What was she? “No,” she replied. “What am I?”

 

“You are a shadowhunter – one of the nephilim,” Maryse said carefully. “Do you know what that means?” Clary shook her head and Maryse continued, “Shadowhunters are a different race. We are the combination of humans and angels. It is our duty to protect mundanes, regular humans, from demons.” Clary could practically feel Maryse’s eyes on her, watching her face for some sort of reaction. “It’s why you could see this place for what it truly is, while your mundane friend out there can only see an old, decrepit church.”

 

Clary wasn’t sure she believed what Maryse was saying, but she wanted to hear everything the woman had to say. “What is this place?” she asked.

 

“It’s called ‘The Institute,’” Maryse responded. “It’s wh –” but Clary didn’t get to hear the rest of the sentence because at that moment the door was thrown open.

 

Clary’s eyes widened in fear. It was the boy from Pandemonium – the one with the golden hair that had chopped off the boy’s head. “Who’s this?” he asked, motioning to Clary with his head. She couldn’t help but stare at him and his ethereal beauty – which made sense if he, too, were part angel.

 

Instead of answering the boy’s question, Maryse asked him one in return, “What do you need, Jace?”

 

“Just to let you know that we’re back. No one’s hurt,” he responded. “And to know why there’s a mundane standing on the sidewalk outside.” His eyes scanned Clary – from her bright red hair to her tear-stained cheeks, all the way down to her worn, black converse.

 

“Go tell him that Clary is safe and that she will call him later,” Maryse told him.

 

Jace stood there for a moment, his eyes lingering on Clary for longer than she felt comfortable with, before he nodded and left the room.

 

The old grandfather clock that stood in one corner of the room chimed midnight and Maryse got to her feet. “We have time for introductions and explanations tomorrow,” she said kindly. “Someone will be sent to check your home for any signs of your mother but I think that you should rest.” She led Clary back through the hallway to a room that looked like it had been empty for years. Surprisingly, there wasn’t any dust.

 

“I don’t have anything to wear,” Clary mumbled feebly and Maryse crossed the room to the dresser and pulled out a nightgown that looked like it would fit Clary.

 

“Try this for now,” Maryse suggested. “Tomorrow we’ll go get your regular clothes. Goodnight, Clary.” She turned and left the room.

 

Clary took in her surroundings. The walls were white and plain, void aside from a painting of Central Park hanging on one of the walls. The bed frame was made of a rich, sturdy-looking wood, and the covers were a warm, dark burgundy. She slipped into the pale blue nightgown, dropping her clothes onto the chair in the corner of the room.

 

She wasted no time climbing under the covers, but she had a hard time falling asleep. Thoughts of her mother, along with the terrifying thought of spending a night under the same roof as a murderer, made it difficult for her to doze off. Eventually she did, but her dreams were filled with terrible things – visions of her mother dying, of ‘Jace’ killing that boy – and one good thing, the raven-haired girl saving her from anything that tried to attack her.

 

When Clary opened her eyes the next morning, it took her a moment to remember where she was and what had happened. She’d hoped that it had all been a dream, that she’d wake up in her own bed with her mom painting and humming down the hall. She got up and quickly changed out of the nightgown and back into her clothes from the night before.

 

Clary opened her door quietly, doing her best not to make any noise as she crept down the hallway in search of a bathroom. All of her attempted quiet was put to waste as she rounded the corner of the hall and accidentally stepped on a cat’s tail. The cat howled loudly and took off. “Max!” a girl’s voice yelled from behind one of the doors. “Leave that damn cat alone!” The door immediately to Clary’s right opened and Clary was greeted by the sight of the girl from her dreams. Close up, she was just as beautiful as Clary had ever seen her. “You,” the girl breathed, so quietly that Clary barely heard it. The girl’s dark eyes were round in shock. Suddenly, as if she’d been doused with cold water, the look of shock was gone. “I’m Isabelle,” she said confidently, holding her hand out towards Clary.

 

“Clary,” she responded, a tight smile on her face. She clearly lacked the confidence that Isabelle had. “I’m sorry – I didn’t see the cat,” she said as she shook Isabelle’s hand.

 

“Oh, it’s alright,” Isabelle replied. Clary felt like she had fallen into some sort of dream land. Maybe she was in a coma. She couldn’t believe that Isabelle was right in front of her, that her life had become like some sort of movie that she couldn’t pause.

 

Something had started – Clary just didn’t know what.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written on my phone and is unbeta'd, so any mistakes are either mine or autocorrect's. Assign blame accordingly.

Isabelle quickly closed the door behind her, leaning against it and taking a deep breath as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. _Clary._ The name ran through her head over and over again and she did her best to attach it to the girl she'd been dreaming of. This was the last place she'd ever imagined them meeting. Isabelle had fantasized about meeting her in coffee shops, in shopping malls, in Central Park - basically, she'd imagined meeting her anywhere _but_ the hall outside of her bedroom while she looked like she'd just risen from the dead.

She waited a little longer before cracking the door open and peering into the hallway to make sure that the coast was clear. Clary was nowhere to be found - during the very brief conversation they'd shared, Clary had said that she was looking for the bathroom - so Isabelle crept out of her room, gingerly closing the door before hurrying down the hall and up the flight of stairs that led to the training room.

Predictably, Jace and Alec were already there. Jace - who enjoyed pointlessly dangerous activities - was standing in front of a target against the opposite wall, unflinching, even as Alec through silver daggers at him, which hit the target and got stuck less than an inch from Jace's ear. Maybe it was a _parabati_ thing, or maybe it was just a boy thing, but either way Isabelle needed them to stop.

"Hey, Izzy," Jace grinned as Alec went to collect the daggers. "Training in your pajamas today?" he asked sarcastically.

"Shut up," Isabelle replied good-naturedly, "I'm not here to train."

"Clearly," Alec interjected, eyeing her fuzzy pink slippers.

"You know that girl?" Isabelle went on, ignoring her brother. "The one I've been dreaming about? The one I thought I saw at Pandemonium last night?"

"Yes," Alec and Jace said at the same time, making little effort to keep the boredom out of their voices. Isabelle knew that they were tired of listening to her talk about the girl - Clary, she reminded herself - but they could at least _pretend_ to be interested.

"Well, she's here," Isabelle told the two of them, enjoying the astonished looks on their faces.

"Wait, that little red-haired girl?" Jace asked. " _That's_ who you've been dreaming about?"

Isabelle nodded. "She's shorter than I expected," she confessed. "And her name is Clary," she added, although she was sure that neither of the boys would care.

"Well, Maryse said that we're going to her house later," Jace said nonchalantly as he turned and moved back into his position in front of the target. "Apparently something happened to her mother."

As Alec resumed whipping knives at Jace's head, Isabelle could tell that the conversation was over. She went back to her room, thankfully without running into Clary again. The next time they saw each other, Isabelle was determined to look sleek and put together, not sleepy and pajama-clad.

Needless to say, she succeeded. The next time Isabelle saw Clary she was dressed in all black, a skin tight dress with a sturdy leather jacket over top. Her boots were leather as well, knee-high and easily her favourite item of clothing. They were not _only_ hot as hell, they were practical. She wore them a lot - some people might say too often - but they were great for a night out _and_ killing demons.

She walked into the library when her mother called and her eyes were drawn to Clary. Her flaming hair stood out in the room that was filled mostly with dark furniture. Isabelle couldn't help but notice that the expression on Clary's face was one of shock - her green eyes were wide, full of disbelief and wonder. It was endearing, Isabelle thought, though she couldn't imagine being in Clary's position.

Maryse had filled Isabelle in briefly, Clary's mother was probably kidnapped and, before last night, Clary hadn't known anything about Shadowhunters and Demons and what she was. The Silent Brothers were going to examine Clary. Apparently there were things Clary was supposed to know but didn't.

When Maryse told them all what they were doing, just before she sent them off, Clary looked up at her. "You're not coming?" Clary asked, what looked like panic in her eyes.

"Alec, Isabelle, and Jace will assist you," Maryse said kindly. "They are fully equipped to handle anything that might need handling."

Clary looked hesitant but followed them out of the Institute. Isabelle hung back a little, trying to walk closer to Clary but not right beside her.

It was a little bit of an awkward drive to Clary's house, no one saying anything and Isabelle and Clary exchanging fleeting glances. Isabelle wanted to stare at her, to watch her and count all of the freckles on her face. But that might be a little creepy, so she decided against it.

They finally got to Clary's house, a squat, stone, two-level building. As soon as they stepped out of the car they could smell it - demons. Clary coughed and gagged, the scent overwhelmingly putrid.

"C'mon," Isabelle murmured into Clary's ear, gently taking her elbow and leading her inside.

Clary's apartment door had been torn from its hinges and the place is a mess. Everything had been overturned and thrown around. Although Isabelle had a feeling that the place had never been completely immaculate, she was sure this isn't what it's supposed to look like.

"Let's get your clothes and things," Isabelle suggested. Clary nodded and Isabelle followed her down the hall to one of the only rooms that wasn't a complete mess.

The walls were painted a sunny yellow, with dark green curtains and matching bedspread. There were easels, paints, and other art supplies covering almost every square inch of the room. Clary was shoving clothes into a backpack when Isabelle's eyes rested on a painting.

"Is this... me?" Isabelle asked, eyes wide and drinking in the picture. The question seemed to hover in the air - Clary had stilled and when Isabelle turned to face her, a dark pink flush clung to Clary's cheeks.

Clary avoided eye contact, staring down at the ground when she said, "yes," in little more than a whisper.

"It's beautiful," Isabelle told her and Clary lifted her gaze to meet Isabelle's.

A look of shock washed over Clary's face, her eyes wide and staring at something over Isabelle's shoulder. Isabelle turned, her glittering whip unravelling from her wrist.

The demon was big and ugly, rearing its vicious head in their direction. Isabelle raised her whip, grinning with satisfaction as it sliced through the demon's flesh, wrapping around its thick neck. Isabelle tugged, ripping her whip free and severing the demon's head at the same time. As the demon vanished, Isabelle turned around to face Clary.

"But... I... you..." Clary sputtered, staring at the place the demon had been. "Where did it go?" Clary finally managed.

"It's a demon. When they're killed here, they return to whatever realm they're from," Isabelle explained. "Are you almost packed?" she changed the subject. "We should go in case there are any more lurking around."

Clary quickly shoved a few more things into her backpack, grabbing a sketchbook and some pencils before they left the room.

They met up with Jace and Alec in the hallway. Alec was holding a strange, leather-bound book in one hand and a Seraph blade that was dripping with blood and ichor in the other. "We should go," he suggested, exchanging a pointed look with Isabelle.

When they returned to the Institute, a Silent Brother was waiting to see Clary. His parchment-coloured robes were pulled over his head and Clary stifled a scream as he lowered it. Isabelle watched her studiously - if you weren't used to the way they looked, Silent Brothers could look quite terrifying.

The room was filled with tense quiet as the Silent Brother examined Clary, peering into her mind to try to learn what had happened to Clary and who had taken her memories. Isabelle's eyes never strayed from the red-haired girl and, when Clary's face screwed up with pain, she had to fight against every one of her instincts that were telling her to protect Clary. Instead, Isabelle stood stoically, telling herself that it was only temporary, that Clary would be okay.

"M.B?" Clary asked, breaking the silence, and Isabelle knew that she was repeating what the Brother had told her. Isabelle looked over at Alec and Jace, who had looked incredibly disinterested until Clary had spoken.

The room was suddenly quieter than before - it was as if everyone thought that they could hear what the Silent Brother was saying if they were quiet enough, which was definitely not the case. Isabelle knew why Alec was suddenly interested and it had everything to do with the crush he had on a certain Warlock with those initials. The silence was broken by Maryse thanking the Brother and leaving the room to walk him out of the Institute.

Clary turned and sat down, facing the other three. Isabelle wanted to ask her about the Silent Brother and what he had uncovered, but they all stared at each other uncomfortably.

Any questions Isabelle might have had were answered quickly, though, when Maryse returned and told them what they needed to do.

Luckily for Alec, they now had an excuse to visit the Warlock he was in love with - Magnus Bane. "We can go tonight," Alec suggested, "Magnus is throwing a party." Everyone's eyes rested on Alec and Isabelle laughed at the slight flush that had appeared on his cheeks.

Seeing no better plan, everyone agreed and got up to leave. As she started towards the door, Isabelle overheard Clary talking to Maryse. "Would it be okay if I invited Simon here? I just..." Clary trailed off.

"You need some normalcy," Maryse supplied. "Of course," she nodded.

Clary grinned and pulled out her cell phone to call here friend. Isabelle felt a surge of jealousy wash through her. She knew it was stupid, but _she_ wanted to be the one Clary called - and hopefully they'd get there.

Isabelle retreated to her bedroom and flopped down onto her bed. She heard a strange voice in the hallway outside and Isabelle knew that it must be Clary's friend - _Simon_. When she checked the clock and saw that it was almost time to go to Magnus' party, Isabelle made a desperate move.

She went to Clary's room and knocked on the door. "Hi," Clary said, her eyes wide.

"Hi," Isabelle replied, smiling kindly. "I wanted to know if you needed help figuring out what to wear to Magnus' party."

Clary looked surprised at the offer but regained composure quickly. "Uh, I was just going to wear this," she said, looking down at herself.

"Oh no," Isabelle told her, " you can't wear that." She invited herself in to the room, ignoring the curly-haired boy that was sitting on the bed, and opened Clary's backpack. She looked through the clothes - most of which were boring and drab - making clicking noises as she did so. "None of this will work," Isabelle said. "I think I have something for you though."

Isabelle saw Clary exchange a look with Simon before following her out of the room. Isabelle went through her closet before settling on something she knew would look great. She tossed it to Clary. "Put this on," she suggested, "and these," she gave Clary a pair of heels.

"Okay," Clary said and Isabelle turned around to give the other girl more privacy.

When she face Clary again, the redhead looked like a completely different person. What was a tank top on Isabelle was a dress on Clary, hitting around the middle of her thigh and clinging to her curves. The heels made her legs look longer and the black made her skin look smoother and her hair more vibrant. "How do I look?" Clary asked uncertainly.

Isabelle smiled, "You look great. Let's go get the boys and go." They'd only taken a few steps before they ran into Alec and Jace, who were staring at Clary's friend Simon like they'd never seen a mundane before. There was something about the look on Jace's face that was surprising and unexpected, but Isabelle didn't pay it much attention - she was too focused on Simon and the way he was ogling Clary.

It took them a surprisingly short amount of time to reach Magnus' house. There was clearly a party happening because almost a dozen Vampire motorcycles were sitting on the curb. Alec, very excited and single-minded, marched them past the bikes - which Jace seemed a little _too_ interested in - and up the door.

Magnus was dressed as he usually was, wearing glitter and jewel-tones, and his yellowish-green cat eyes sparkled almost as much as his jacket when they landed on Alec. "Alec," he smiled warmly, but his smile faded as his gaze slid over the rest of the group, finally landing on Clary. "Oh, shit," he muttered under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed! As always, constructive criticism is appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos are appreciated! Let me know what you think!


End file.
